Welcome to Goblin Town
by stolen with the night
Summary: There were just some things a witch shouldn't do, especially if you're the savior of the Wizarding world. Like getting drunk, semi-kidnapping your godchild, become queen of the goblins after winning a drunken brawl with the previous king in a foreign world and not remembering any of it the next day. Harry swears she'll never drink again. Sort of.
1. Chapter 1

_**Authors Note- **__I figure, why not? I don't really think this will be a too serious story because my Harry is going to be seriously punk and living the childhood she always wanted in a very misguided sense. But, while I'm at it I might as well have fun._

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**_Chapter Warnings-_**_ Fem!Harry, BAMF!Harry but in her own way...yeah._

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**_Chapter One:_ Just Some Things a Witch Shouldn't Do**

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There were just some things a witch shouldn't do.

Especially one who could make a single comment about a nice new breakfast cereal she ate the previous morning in public and suddenly it was all the _rage _to eat it. Why? Because didn't you _hear Sarah, _the _Lady Harriet Lily James Potter _is endorsing it now, they say it's how she gets such smooth skin.

For the record, that was pure genes, artistically combined to create the genetic structure that was me, Harry. And yes, I had abused the power once or twice when I _casually _commented on how _pleasant _it would be to have the latest nimbus or how _indebted _I would be if some one were to _provide _me with some shiny dragon hide boots. Somehow I would always turn a corner and, what do you know, there was the latest nimbus and Merlin's balls I looked fabulous in the black leather of a dead dragon. To be fair though, just being seen with a product often had their sales skyrocketing. It was a win-win for both sides.

I had no problem affording any of the things I wanted, haven't had a problem affording anything since I was eleven. I had even less of a problem affording anything I wanted when I became of age and therefore old enough to access the Potter family vault. Said vault was full of generation after generation of shrewd money makers gold just sitting in piles all about the place. Galleons upon galleons, enough to make me a rich person three times over. It was hard to think that while the Potters were a rich family, they weren't the wealthiest.

No, that was the Blacks and who had access to the Black vault?

Yes, tis I.

It shouldn't _really_ be surprising I was the closest thing to a legitimate heir to the Blacks as you could get in the inbred cesspool that was the modern wizarding world. Through an ancient ancestor of mine, a certain Peverell brother-with-a-cloak-that-made-you-invisible's son had a pretty dark haired daughter who married a Potter, who together had another daughter who married a Black who had many, many, many other children. That was centuries ago, and I was _still _a legitimate heir. I _really _don't understand wizarding law.

Of course, there was Andromeda Tonks nee Black and her grandson, my god child, Edward Remus Theodore Lupin, my Teddy bear, but Andy had been excommunicated from the Black family tree when she married a non-pureblood. According to wizarding law- which had yet to be smoothed out- didn't make her or Teddy, a viable heir. So, they settled for the closest thing; a Potter. The last Potter in fact, it helped that the last real heir before being shunned from the family had been my god father.

What did I do with my abundant fortune? Gave it all to Andy and my gorgeous blue haired darling who on occasion would change looks completely. Special boy, him. They weren't considered Blacks by the remaining snobs of society but the fortune was theirs.

But like I said, there were just some things a witch shouldn't do.

For example, one should never nonchalantly ask the sky for eighteen bottles of Blishen's firewhisky while in public. _Never._ One should never turn up to a friend's- notorious for their drinking abilities- house with eighteen bottles of Blishen's firewhisky. _Never_. One should never get into an argument with said friend and then demand a drinking competition to determine who was right. _Never. _But most of all, one should never get so drunk as to wake up and not remember a single thing from the night before.

In case you were wondering, yes, I did all those things.

Which was why I now sat- or slumped- on a large chair made of what looks to be skulls and leather, it was real hardcore. My dragon hide boot clad legs dangled over the surprisingly comfortable arm rest comprised of a few decidedly not human arm bones and my black leather Auror jacket crumpled- why was it singed at the edges?- and wrinkled served as a makeshift blanket. I was still in my Auror uniform, which explained why I was so comfortable. I had taken to wearing it often, not only was it efficient, it made me look like a gorgeous badass and that's all a woman wants to be, yes? Yes.

It was the standard black that helped us blend into the night, an obviously charmed for a million things military jacket underneath the standard one. Shining black material clung to my legs tightly, leaving no room for water to get in between and causing sickness and embezzled- yes, embezzled, I was Harry bloody Potter- on the collar of my long jacket was the letter M, the symbol of the Ministry of Magic. A silver pocket watch hung from my front pocket, etched on the front a curled A, a sign to all those who saw it that I was a part of the magic worlds military force. And, of course, a black wand holster buckled nice and snug on my right arm, wand safe and sound within it, allowing me a moment of relief.

So aside from me looking fabulous, I was hungover, in what looked to be an abandoned mine, on a pile of long dead...things, strung together to fashion a huge arse chair, something was jabbing into my skull and I was surrounded by the tallest and ugliest looking house elves I had ever seen, all clad with shittily made weapons and all silent and staring at me.

Yep, last night was a good one.

I made an uncomfortable noise at the back of my throat, the sound causing an explosion of pain in my head. "Bollocks!"

"O' darkest one?" Called one of the smallest but certainly not prettier elves in a fearful tone, like saying anything was a offence punishable by death. He- it was a he right?- didn't speak English. No, far from it, the sound of it grated against my ears like the darkest of magic against my soul but to my surprise I understood what he said. Perfectly, which was probably a cause to worry about, but I was hungover and at this point didn't give a flying snitch.

I ignored the cringing house elves in favor of flicking my wrist, an action that summoned forth my wand from it's holster and into my hand. Immediately the elves roared and jumped about, some looked like excited dogs while others looked as if their deaths had finally come for them, causing me to narrow my eyes at them. House elves may have enjoyed work but punishing them physically was now a breach of the law, thanks to a certain bushy haired friend and judging by their reaction to my wand, someone had done just that.

"Relax, I wont harm any of you." I attempted to placate the fearful looking ones while sending a stern look to the others which had them silent in moments. The smaller ones relaxed somewhat but still looked at me as if I were both Jesus and Satan, at the same time.

Muttering a quick spell to rid myself of my hangover, I took in my surroundings. We were definitely in an abandoned mine. Mine carts full of swords and other weaponry were scattered about the place and half made scaffolds leaned against cavern walls. It was huge with torches lit everywhere for light, tunnels stretched in every direction and on many different levels which made me realize I was at the highest point, looking down at what could have been hundreds upon hundreds of uglier than usual house elves.

"Where in Merlin's name am I?" I rasped, mild dread pooling in my stomach. It was Monday and I was obviously late to work, to a job where I was a potential candidate for captain of the Aurors. I could now kiss that position goodbye, didn't matter if I was the savior of the wizarding world. I had gotten drunk off my arse and partied with house elves in a mine, doesn't look so good on the resume.

Another stepped forth to answer my question, "We are in the caverns of the Misty Mountains, south of the Mountains of Angmar, my Queen." He paused, his green skin paling in a most unflattering way before continuing, "Though, you have recently renamed it...Goblin Town."

My silence rung through the mines louder than any noise could have, but my mind remained blank in wake of his words.

_Misty Mountains?_

_Mountains of Angmar?_

_My Queen? Me?_

_Goblin Town?_

The one who had answered my question- which just brought up even more- fidgeted in place, fear in his eyes and spluttered, "Forgive me, magical one. I recall you saying that we goblins should name our dwelling. You also offered up Potterville, Harrytown and Camelot before settling on Goblin Town." He inhaled, seemingly gathering his courage. "You sung a song, it was to be our anthem?" He ended in a squeak.

Merlin's crystal balls I was off my rocker and from this moment forth I was never drinking again, ever. "Where am I?" I asked again and upon seeing their confused faces I was quick to clarify myself, "I mean what country am I in?"

Because British Goblins did _not _look and act like these ones did; less sneering and more please-don't-kill-me.

This time it was the so called goblins turn to stay their tongues as they looked at each other, eyes darting around to see if anyone understood and more than a little panic buzzed about me. "Okay, England? Scotland? Europe? Bloody hell, the Pacific ocean? The Bermuda triangle? Flippen 'ell McDonald's? Ring a bell?"

The goblin wrung his hands together in a nervous fashion, "We have no bells My Lady." Then glared at the next goblin over as if it was his fault that they didn't have any bells and that if he didn't have bells in the next minute he would be tasting his rusted sword in the back of his throat or maybe not because he'd be dead before he could. It was almost amusing to see him go from guilty child to absolute psychopath in under a second.

It was at this point I knew something was very, _very, _wrong but in a desperate attempt I spoke a name I hadn't spoken since I learned his true name, "Voldemort?"

There was confusion again as they stared at me, the foreign name obviously meaning nothing to them. It didn't matter if these goblins had lived under the smallest rock in the most desolate of deserts, every magical creature knew that name, Merlin, some still recoiled in fear when it was said aloud.

"Planet? What planet?" I ask, agitation now settling in.

The goblins seem to notice this as they all squirmed in their spots, though it was easy to notice the group of goblins standing together on a balcony stayed still, their eyes following my every facial twitch making me want to throw a stinging hex at them while simultaneously reminding me of my days as a teenager under the fierce glare of my potions professor, it was not a nice reminder. Baring my teeth at them much like a rabid wolf to show my annoyance it was a show of bravery when they simply gave a respectful bow of their heads, some shooting others smug smirks while they were at it.

Irritation was welling up in me in face of all the unknowns. It was now well known that Harriet J. Potter did not like _not _knowing things and right now I knew absolute jack. "World. What world is this?" I snarl, dragon hide boots hitting the floor of the rickety scaffolding with a thud, hands gripping the arms of my bone chair, ready to spring up.

"Middle-Earth, though the first born call it _Arda._" One of the goblins from the balcony called calmly. His skin was paler than the most of the others, more grey than green, as were all who stood on the balcony. They wore skulls around their necks and judging by their sparse silver ear hair and wrinkles, had obviously lived a long, long, _long _time.

That answered one question of my one thousand while introducing several more. Who the were the first born? What language did he switch to at the end of his sentence because his words went from grating to song like. Why could I understand them when they were obviously not speaking English? How could they understand me when speaking English but could not speak English themselves because if they could there would be no need for...whatever they were speaking.

Morgana's lady parts, it had lasted a whole three minutes but some things just weren't meant to be, "Balls, I need some alcohol. There's only one way to sort his out and it isn't by being sober."


	2. Drunken Times

_**Authors Note-** Yay, second chapter. Someone (VeronikaB) left a funny review regarding Harry's dragon hide boots, Smaug and Harry's general badassery. It spurned this next chapter. I hope you nejoy and I apologise for any mistakes in advance._

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_**Warnings- **BAMF!Harry, Regal!Teddy, Babysitter!Goblins and...Little Mia_

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**_Chapter Two: _Drunken Times**

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The weather was melancholic which was perfect for her because at the moment she needed to have a muggle movie scene where everything is dark and mysterious and rain is pouring down on that one troubled girl who cried in the rain because her life was so hard. Currently that girl was Harry. She was a little upset that there was no sad violin music in the background to accompany her bad mood but she was content with mother natures will to play along.

Harry stood outside the cave entrance to her new kingdom and wondered _How in Tommy boy's black girly diary did this happen?_

Which was stupid because the ugly goblins had told her but could she really trust them? Could she really believe that she had knocked out the previous monarch while completely drunk? Well, yes to the latter but the point still stands and if what they said was true- what little she could pick out from the many voices yelling the story at her- Hermione was right. Again. Like always. Damn.

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_The night was young as was she, the moon glowing brightly, the star shining above; the perfect setting to get drunk. She had eighteen bottles ready to be shrunk down and placed her handy dandy pocket, she looked fabulous, Hermione was glaring at her from the left, the-_

_"Merlins balls! Mia what are you doing here? I thought you were off doing extremely kinky things with your new husband- because I don't know if you know this but with Ron's self esteem issues he may be a little dominant in the bedroom." The young auror paused, ignoring her friends slightly horrified look. "But I suppose with how dominant you are yourself, you would like that eh?"_

_"W-what?" The bushy haired newly wed spluttered, face a glowing pink._

_Harry waved a dismissing hand breezily. "It's normal, every girl wants to dominated at some point. It's quite literally a point of being female, doesn't give us a real fighting chance now that I think about. I just figured since he's the sub in day to day life, he'd be the one exerting control between the sheets. He must like that, childhood and all." She mused thoughtfully._

_Hermione had an almost glazed look in her eyes that had Harry snickering, "Haven't tried that yet? Guess not."_

_This seemed to snap her out of her reverie as she assumed the just mentioned dominate pose of females everywhere. Her hip cocked to the side as she placed more weight on her left leg, her arms briefly crossed underneath her chest before her hands fisted and rested at her hips, hair crackling with magic like static electricity. Dominance, yeaaah._

_"Harriet Lily James Potter, do you know what alcohol does to you?!" The brightest witch of her age began her rant. _

_In fact, Harry had received that rant a total of sixteen times now and had therefore had it memorized word for word. She knew _exactly _what alcohol did to her, all credit due to her lovable walking encyclopedia of a friend but instead of telling her this she gave a lazy shrug- she would never tell anyone she spent many, many nights in front of a mirror practicing her now established, lazy grace- and drawled, "Do tell."_

_You knew it was something when a woman like Hermione- who was very proficient in giving lectures and by default had an amazing lung capacity- had needed to take a large intake of breath. "You are putting your body and health in jeopardy!" Harry wanted to laugh here, but didn't think her friend would appreciate it._

_"Shall we start with the Excretory System? Alcohol abuse-" It was at this point Harry tuned the long wined spiel out, she had heard it all before and knew that this could last a while. She appreciated that Hermione was just worried for her but some times she couldn't help but feel coddled. Sort of, not really, now that she thought about it maybe Hermione was just projecting because she couldn't have alcohol herself, but why? I mean it wasn't as if anyone was stopping he- holy kraken, could it be?_

_"Are you pregnant?" She blurted out, interrupting what she assumed was the one of the points of alcohols effect on the digestive system. _

_"Harry! I'm not projecting! And I regret the day I ever told you what that was!" Hermione, was clearly annoyed but Harry was just wonder bound by how psychic-y her best friend was- she may have also already started on the fire whiskey._

_ "I'm serious Harry, alcohol dulls the senses and your thought process goes everywhere. What if you got drunk enough to agree to some stupid bet about braking into the department of mysteries and you go running around in child like awe about all the mysteriousness of it all, pick up a broken time turner and some weird but beautiful glowing stone whose origins and powers are completely unknown because it had mysteriously arrived during the middle ages without any warning and a burst of light and thought it was a good idea to play toss with it and throw it around by yourself and for some unexplained reason the magic in the stone and time turner connected and you are transported to some world where you are made queen and that stupid stone stalks you because you are now bonded through odd magic." Hermione's hands fluttered about the place as she told her story._

_"That was oddly specific. What's the likely hood of that actually happening?"_

_She received a flat look and an equally toneless, "This is _you _Harry." Apparently this was enough of an answer._

_"Psh! As if. Honestly Mia, are you sure you haven't hit the rocks yourself? I mean, dwarves?" Harry waved another dismissing hand with a laugh._

_Hermione frowned, "I didn't say anything about dwarves. Especially thirteen of them."_

_Now it was Harry's turn to frown but she shrugged, "I _am_ tired, but really a man-child against a dragon?"_

_"Huh?"_

_"Huh?"_

_"Huh."_

_Awkward._

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"Dammit, I hate foreshadowing." Harry hissed in frustration as she shook a hand up to the stars. "I blame you and your psychic-y-ness Mia, all your fault."

"Now that's no way to speak to me Harry, I warned you."

Ducking her head to let her waterfall of curls hide her face as she muttered her apologies. "Sorry Mia."

"That's okay Harry, you know I still think of you as a sexy genius no matter what you say. I love you in a completely platonic way with a side of arse oogling on my part."

Harry gave a saucy wink at the twig that had been transfigured into a puppetised Hermione. It was a decent job, a small former house themed scarf around her wooden neck, a red dress that the life sized one would never on her life wear and her bushy main flared out dramatically. Harry pulled the strings accordingly to make the little Mia roll her eyes.

"As friends, jeez." Harry mimicked Little Mia making an annoyed groan, "You're such a pervert Harry. Though sometimes I imagine you naked while your wearing your really tight Auror uniform."

"Oh wow reall-"

"As friends Harry!" Little Mia rolled her eyes once more before looking serious. "But honestly, we should make out some time."

Harry frowned, completely engrossed. "Uh, what about Ron. Aren't you marr-"

"I meant as friends! Merlin you really are a pervert."

Harry rubbed the back of her neck, "I don't, okay, sorry."

"You better be, but to be perfectly clear- we should go for world domination."

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It was with little Mia that Harry finally gathered the courage to approach the goblins who had been watching her and Mia with disbelieving fascination. This of course prompted Harry into telling them all that Mia was married and that she as their queen, was just not interested in peasants, not really, she just didn't go for green and stinky. They didn't make her lady parts tingle and her teeth want to sink into skin or her tongue want to- yeah.

Harry spoke with them, yelled at them, apologized like the little Britt she was and then yelled at them some more. These Goblins were idiots and far from the brilliant business men and women they were in her world, because clearly this was _not _her world. But, if there was anything Harry was good at, it was rolling with the punches. She had gotten so used to magical bullshit that she now grew fidgety when something _wasn't _happening. A big reason as to why she had joined the Aurors instead of going back to school in her final year- and despite this, she learned more in her Auror courses than she would in any classroom.

"So.." Harry drawled as she picked up the bone crown that sat upon her head, lazily inspecting it from different angles. "This is what makes me queen and what basically translates my words into your language which is?"

"A variant of the Black Speech." A small goblin answered from the ones that surrounded her badass throne, which coincidentally -or not, how many people did they kill for this thing?- was also made up of bones. She didn't know how she felt about that but considering there was nothing she could about it and there were far more important things to think about, she ignored it.

Black Speech. It was a rather apt name for the language that could be the lingual version of having your head cut off with a blunt fork but not before having your soul ripped out of your lungs. Brilliant, well done you, well done. Harry rather hoped the creator of Black Speech was burning in hell while little demons prodded at their arse with the same pitch forks they were using to roast marshmallows. It was a satisfying picture.

Little Mia rubbed her bushy mane against Harry's pale neck from her place on Harry's shoulder, "Oh Harry, you have the imagination of David Bowie." She simpered.

Harry frowned, "Seventies David Bowie or eighties David Bowie?"

Little Mia patted her cheek sweetly, "Seventies."

"Why thank you Mia," Harry grinned before turning on her new subjects who stared at her with just a little more understanding before. Clearly their new queen was insane. "So can you understand Mia?" She gestured to her adorable puppet love- ah, friend.

Many heads shook in the negative, some nodded looking dopey as hell, others just looked confused like they didn't understand anything apart from killy-killy-stabey-stabey. "No, Mi'lady. You're speech sounds the same but we only understand what _you_ are saying." Some goblin finally answered.

Harry clicked her tongue with a thoughtful hum. "So if I relinquish my crown, drop it or even lose direct contact with it, I won't be able to understand you and you wouldn't be able to understand me?"

"Yes, and we would kill you." An old Goblin answered, "You are only our leader so long as you have the crown in your grasp. It was how you got the position in the first place." It didn't matter what world you were in, old people were either extremely nice or extremely rude.

"Yeah about that..." Harry skirted.

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_"Yeeew think I'm crazy, don't cha?" Harry drunkenly swayed, the goblins that had carted her in were now used as crutches as she tried to see straight. "Cause I know yew doooo. Everyones sayin' how-how-how poor little Potter iz on a, whatta day call it? Wait, what was I talkin' bout?"_

_The goblin king sneered, his great club swinging down to point at the drunk witch causing his chins to wobble and spurning a laugh from Harry. "They jiggle! Like jelly!" Her laughter suddenly stopped as a disgusted expression took its place. "Second thought, ew, tha's gross and I've had troll snot on me mate."_

_"_Child of man, you will die._" The goblin king roared with a laugh, spittle flying everywhere as his subjects all went wild with excitement but at this point Harry was bored and couldn't understand a thing he was saying but she recognized the giant club with metal spikes so she pulled out her wand without the use of magic._

_With blurry eyes and her tongue stuck out in concentration she pointed her wand at the goblin with two hands, growing annoyed at what sounded like insults. "Oi shut it foreigners! I'm tryin' to blow up the ugly one." She scrunched up her nose and looked to the thin air beside her, "Ew, not like that."_

_It only took one expelliarmus and the fat body of the goblin king was repelled backwards...without his crown. Crouching down to pick up the cluster of bones, Harry popped the hair fixture on top of her head, not giving the still conscious large goblin a second look. _

_"Tch, tourists." She muttered._

_She sat on the large chair that the goblin king had occupied and snuggled into her leather duster, Auror issue and mumbled, "Now don't make a sound. Iz nap time."_

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"Like I said, sorry." Harry apologized half heartedly all the while waving her wand around her head and the crown on it, placing as many sticking charms as possible, ignoring the little Mia who was cooing at the crown with large brown eyes. Invisible hands controlling her actions, namely Harry's magic.

There was no way in the seven hells that this crown would be leaving her head now, nope, nada, never. "So question number- you know what I've lost count but, how exactly was this crown made." Because if this thing wasn't magic then she was the pink feather boa Dumbledore kept hidden in his closet. Wink wink.

"Sorcery." Close enough.

Harry clapped her hands together in satisfaction jostling little Mia, "Great! And where be the wizards and witches?" Her question was meet with silence and just when she was about to groan from frustration she was answered almost hesitantly, which was weird considering so far the little ones were like tiny dogs wanting a treat from her, some of them resembled dogs too- their faces at least.

"There are five wizards. The White wizard, the Grey, the Brown and the two Blue wizards. They are called wizards in Westron but all of the dark know them for what they are. Maiar- spirits that serve the Valar in the form of men. There was once another but he has fallen to shadow and lies dormant." There was a hush as the goblins seemed to stare into their memories.

Dormant. That was what caught her attention. Not dead, dormant. As if these goblins were expecting this dark wizard without a color at this point, to just wake up one day and terrorize the country side. And if her experience with dark wizards kept true, then that's exactly what would happen.

"And where exactly does this dark wizard lie?" She questioned softly.

The goblin who answered her previously did so once more. "There are whispers amongst the Orks. They say the necromancer has already awakened, that he gains strength every passing day."

With calculating eyes she watched them, so still was her body that the smaller goblins squirmed uncomfortably. Those that were alive should not be that still. It was a tactic she learned from her time as an Auror. Before long she let an easy smile slip on. "Well, I once killed a dark wizard, a few times actually. I wont go out of my way to kill this one- had enough of that thank you- but, if he comes for you, it is my duty as your sovereign to protect you. Aye?"

There was disbelieving silence before somewhere a rock dropped and a crowd just shy of a thousand goblins roared with agreement. Applause sounded around the cavern tunnels and echoed into the sky. There were even a few battle cries.

Harry let them have their fun before clapping her hands together in the same fashion a school teacher would to get the attention of her students. "Super, now, no kingdom of mine is going to look so much like a graveyard."

It was time for some clean up. A little magic and hey presto, this mine could be something. Still Harry couldn't shake the thought of missing something. Something big. Something important.

She shrugged, ah well. "Buckets and mops my makeshift house elves, buckets and mops!"

"I love it when you take charge Harry!" Little Mia fluttered her lashes alluringly.

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The goblin ladies all sat around their table made of- once more, bones- and mud, all sipping delicately at their drink as if partaking from fine china instead of the leveled off human skulls they were indeed drinking from.

"Ah, is the young prince-ling hungry?" One such lady cooed over the young royal that lay quietly in her arms, bundled up in a blanket of fine fleece with runes stitched across the edges. His doe amber eyes blinked unimpressed up at their grotesque faces as if to say 'plebeian, where is my magnificent mother of magic' but cutely because he was adorable.

This only caused the goblin women to laugh uproariously. "He shall make a fine king after her majesty!" One huffed.

"Aye, we'll teach him to crush the skulls of his enemies and drink their blood in victory, fashion their innards into mantle pieces, turn their skin into books and how to make fire with those books. But of course, not until he has reached his fourth year." The gobliness paused for a moment full of pride, her tone reflecting this, "After all, our queen has given us this duty we must 'look after Teddy-kins until nap time is over'."

Another scoffed. "Of course we shall wait until his fourth year, what are we? Barbarians?" They all laughed daintily, their meaty hands moving to cover their mouths as they did so.

The pink haired toddler just wanted his milk.


	3. Sentience to white trees

_**Authors Note- **It's been a while (I feel like I start all my chapters like this) but I don't know, life got in the way, as it tends to do. None the less, thank you for every one who reviewed and encouraged this story and I hope you continue to like the fic :) Also, it maybe another month before you get another update, apologies and ect._

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_**Chapter Warnings- **Trees, gardening!necromancer, nerd!goblins, oh and demonic dolls made of wisdom._

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**_Disclaimer- _**_Nada, I got nothin and own nothin._

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**_Chapter three: _Give sentience to white trees!**

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Animation spells were something of incredible interest. A wand pointed at an inanimate object, waved correctly and a spell spoken and a stone statue could defend a castle from an army of dark magic users lead by a sixty-something year old man with no nose and a snake for a pet. Harry would know. That statue could hop around and play jump rope or whatever it is that muggle children played these days. Amazing really, but what it couldn't do was speak. Or have a mind of its own.

After growing tired- incredibly lazy- Harry had decided it was probably best to just use that spell Professor McGonagall once used and make Mia move her own little body. It worked perfectly- obviously, have you seen her wand?- and then she opened her little- incredibly lifelike, thank you very much- wooden mouth and spoke. All on her own and promptly short circuited Harry's brain.

Like what in Merlin's- crystal, future seeing, prophesy giving, soul reading, aura seeing- balls?

Harry had given it some thought and after some discussion with Mia- Harry admitting she wasn't exactly the brains of her little group during her school days- they decided it was best not to think about it. Okay, it may not have gone down that way. Mia had mentioned all these little tid bits of information, she didn't really listen, Mia asked for books, goblins don't _do _books and Harry wondered how her little Mia had managed to proclaim herself prime minister of Goblin Town, whose anthem was still questionable.

"It's a bloody screw up of epic proportions Harry-bear!" Little Mia, calmly spoke. Or roared like an alpha lion seeking out mates or something primal sounding in which Harry couldn't actually think of a metaphor for.

Mia paced, her wooden body moving quite fluidly for wood, Harry would need to find the tree of the twig that her body was made of. It was doing wonders for her ego, her father was a transfiguration genius after all. Or something like that, Harry tended to drop off when someone would start talking about the time James Potter accidentally kept his stag prongs after returning to his original state and couldn't move his head for two days from the weight. Lies, all lies.

Mia's body couldn't be bigger than a barbie doll, yet the goblins had learned what it was like as their queens right hand gal. It was a lesson all must learn, an ant Hermione was still Hermione. With some control issues. And maybe a bit of a power rush. Oh, and an evil streak. What went wrong?

"They have no government, no laws, no law enforcement and therefore no punishment." Mia huffed. "They have no alliances with the outside world save for with something called an Orc. Which, according to your Potter instinct is not a great idea."

"Nope." Harry assured, sipping on rotten fruit juice which, if she didn't think about it, tasted somewhat like alcohol.

"They have no trading system and their technology doesn't make sense!" Little Mia climbed Harry's cloak to sit upon her shoulder with a grunt. "I mean, they have catapults and a very modern scaffolding system for Merlin's sake, but their weapons are cattle fodder. There's obviously no education system, their sense of decency is odd, as are their morals."

What did the great, all powerful Harry have to say about all this? "We'll mine shit."

For something so wooden, Mia's head turned scarily, _so fuckin' scarily _like a mechanical doll, to glare directly into her eyes. Harry swore she could see the fires of hell, she always knew Mia was a demon. "No! No, no, no. Listen Mia, my Potter genius is working!" Harry beamed at her. "We're sitting in an untouched mine, if it has anything the goblins will find it. Anything precious is the general currency of any country."

The fires of hell receded as Mia started stroking Harry's dark curls in the way old Mrs. Figg would pet her prize kneazle and cat hybrid, Mr Tibbles. "Good Harry." Mia crooned softly, still stroking her hair, which was honestly starting to scare her. "It seems we will be getting somewhere."

Bloody hell. Harry needed some _actual _alcohol. "Please don't kill me."

Wooden Mia chuckled, "I will rule this world."

How long did animation spells work for exactly?

**.**

**.**

**.**

_Too blue._

_Not light enough._

_Not pale enough._

_Too much green, not enough silver._

"Merlin damn it!" Harry growled. "Will I ever get it right. She looks like a stoner. A pale, vampiric, stoner who smokes all kinds of vegetables and-" Harry cut herself off and took a moment to think about it. Realization dawned. "Oh. That's kind of perfect then." She spoke awkwardly. "Whoops, sorry Luna."

Transfigured from a long willowy stick of white wood that goblins went all rah-rah over (something about a piece of a white tree? A magical tree? Harry wasn't really listening) stood a beautiful doll Luna. A work of art if Harry didn't say so. This model wasn't as realistically proportioned as her Mia, with large round, grey eyes- glassy, like she was constantly high. Messy platinum hair spilling down to reach her ankles, the white wood made her skin pale and she was dressed in a knee length Victorian dress of green, blue and pink with brown riding boots.

Harry adjusted the tiny flower headdress Luna wore to sit perfectly on her head. "There!" Harry cooed, "Who's the prettiest lil' thing? You are!"

Honestly, she might as well go into the magical doll making business. Screw magical law enforcement.

Wordlessly summoning her wand from its holster- honestly the only wand-less magic she was capable of, but it was a great party trick- Harry pointed all eleven inches of holly wood- and more baby, _so _much more- at the lifeless doll and casually, oh so casually- yet perfectly, let us, brethren, not forget that- carried out the correct wand waving.

"_Piertotem Locomotor._" Harry chanted.

Mia's little body had shuddered dramatically, her wooden joints clacking and trembling before she slumped forward. After a few seconds her limbs straightened out, her hair regained all its static charge drawn from the depths of some unknown realm and she promptly started her proposal on world domination. It was a little touch and go with Mia attempting to take Harry's crown and then there was the whole Harry becoming her favored pet, but Harry honestly believed that a little Luna would help even it all out.

If anything it would be entertaining. Everyone knew Luna had some sort of prophesy-ish-ness going on in her Nargles-death-be-with-ye-praise-the-moon-god-world. Of course, Luna being Luna- even in doll form- would always be a little bit different. Namely, she didn't move.

But Harry didn't wave her wand again because there in large grey eyes were signs of life. They were blank, like the real Luna's but thought was obviously going on behind them and then Harry caught a flash. Scrunching up her nose and squinting to get a closer look, Harry watched with utter disbelief as a large open mouthed grin, slowly slithered- Merlin shagging _slithered_\- across doll Luna's face to reveal sharp, shark-like teeth in rows.

"Hello green eyes." Little Luna singsonged, her pupils turning to slits and her smile not moving an inch.

Silence echoed in Harry's self appointed chambers like the dead weight of a corpse- provided by Luna of course, or Mia if she found out about this- until it was finally broken by Harry's irritated groan. "Should have listened to those goblins."

**.**

**.**

**.**

"So, _hypothetically_ speaking..." Harry fingered the hem of the black tunic provided for her. "If one were to give life or a form of sentience whose period of working time was absolutely unknown to you to the twig I had taken from you guys, what would happen exactly? Remember _h__ypothetically_."

The small group of little goblins that surrounded her throne twittered among themselves, obviously thinking over the answer. If the goblins had cliques she would call these little ones the nerds. They didn't do much of the heavy work it appeared, choosing to carry around bows and arrows rather then the shitty heavy weaponry Harry had seen around.

After a few moments of discussion all whispering ceased and one stepped forward. "Your royal highness, slayer of all things. We believe we have an answer."

Harry waved a nonchalant hand. What could she say, she born to be queen. "Proceed." She drawled, imitating one white-blonde with too much time and money.

"There are two alternative conclusions based on the two histories of the artifact." Harry was sure that if this goblin had glasses, he would be pushing them up the bridge of his nose like some sort of historian. "The twig itself comes from a tree whose flawless bark is pure white and whose graceful arches are home to bright silver leaves and white flowers. Occasionally this tree bore fruit that was not edible. It was fashioned after the eldest of two trees of Valinor and its image given to the first born. From it a sapling was taken to _Tol Eressea_, named _Celeborn._ This tree sired another which was felled by the dark one and used burn on the altars as it is said the wood of the trees create a smoke that can cover the lands in darkness for seven days."

Another goblin stepped forward. "Giving this tree sentience while it is tainted, it's results would be rather unknown to us."

"Oh," Harry squeaked, "That's wonderful. Brilliant."

_Fucking dark lords couldn't take up any other hobby? What about killing? Torture and maiming? Collecting stickers that glow in the dark or flippin' human eyeballs like other dark lords. No, this one is into magical tree keeping. Bastard evil sorcerer who doesn't conform to evil stereotypes._

"And the other conclusion?" She asked, hoping that it wasn't going to get worse.

The goblin that spoke before- she really did need to learn their names- was the same to answer. "There was more than one white tree. In fact there were three, all of which resided in Gondor and belonged to the house of Isildur. One of these trees healed all of Isildur's wounds and since there were three trees we don't know which one the twig belonged to. Which also leaves us with another unknown."

Harry perked up, "So it could be a good tree?" The enthusiastic nods were enough for her and turning to her left Harry lifted up the small, easily conjured box that had chains wrapped around it and what appeared to be anti-evil -_demon doll, demon doll, demon doll!-_wards on them. A flick of her wand had the chains writhing and untangling themselves. Cracking the lid open, Harry's green eyes peered into the shadows of the box only to make contact with slitted grey eyes and a razor blade grin.

"Green eyes." It cooed.

Harry slammed the lid back on.

"Although it's more than likely not from the untainted tree's. The dark lord gained the white tree during the great plague when all dark creatures rose in power and numbers. The necromancers return, we can safely say it was probably from that tree." The goblins nodded again. _Little twats._

**.**

**.**

**.**

As it turns out, Luna was rather nice.

Harry laid back on her furs, "So I think maybe the power has gotten to her head. It was so different in the beginning but maybe it's just me, yeah? I don't know."

Luna's facial expressions were limited to two. One was completely blank and the other was cute in an absolutely terrifying, stalker-ish, I-will-kill-you-in-your-sleep-way. Namely, it was the one where she proudly graced you with an eyeful of demon teeth that could shred titanium. And. it. never. moved. Quite frankly, Harry suspected the little thing got some sort of sick and kinky pleasure out of frightening people, a bit like the real Luna.

Luna's grin widened as she looked over to Mia who had her arms crossed and lips pursed. "How does this make you feel Hermione?"

Mia looked up, "I feel like Harry-bear and I are going through a rough patch at the moment but we can make it through if we talked more."

"A bad attitude is like a flat tire. You wont go anywhere until you change it." Luna intoned as Harry and Mia nodded in understanding.

Impressed, Harry smiled. "You're really good at this therapy stuff Luna."

"I am strong because I have been weak. I am fearless because I have been afraid. I am wise because I have been foolish." She whispered.

Harry gripped Mia's tiny hand in her own before looking at Luna once more, "You are so _empowering_. What's your secret?"

"I'm not arguing. Simply explaining why I am right."

"Right," Harry and Mia nodded, absorbed. "Right, right. No, I get it. You are so right."


End file.
